Part of the drapes was open, and a stream of moonlight flowed in. I

could see him clearly, as I was sure he could see me. I shrugged, mostly

because I didn’t trust my voice to speak while trying hard to ignore my
racing heart.
“Do I turn you on?” He asked slowly.
My breath hitched, and my eyes looked away from him and at the sheets
we laid on. How did we get here? I opened my mouth to answer but closed
it again. What do I say in this circumstance – with us so close together on
his bed alone, with the look in his eyes? Why is the look pulling me in?
Everything about him pulled me in – the way he looked at me, the muscles
on his arms, his chest. “Tell me about your tattoo,” I finally said.
He smiled like he was expecting me to change the topic and sat up.
“Can you see what it says?”
I shook my head, and he stretched out his hand to turn on the bedside
lamp. The room was flooded with a dim yellow glow again, and I stared at
him, wondering how he managed to look even better in this light.
“Here,” he moved closer to me. He was on my side of the bed now.
I looked at the numbers on his chest and tried to recall my Roman
numerals. My breathing changed. Being this close to him – his thigh
touching mine underneath the covers – I could feel his body heat.
“Two… nine…. Twelve? What’s that?” my voice was barely a whisper
as I read the numbers off his chest.
“It’s a date: December 29
th
.”
“What about it?” I asked as I slowly pulled my thigh away from his.
He put his head on the pillow next to mine. “We were traveling for a
holiday, and we had an accident…” his voice caught. “Mom was…
unresponsive … and was in a coma for weeks. The doctors were going to
take her off life support before the new year, and –” he heaved a big sigh,

“she regained consciousness barely an hour before they pulled the plug. It
was a miracle. "
“On the 29th?”
“Yes,” his voice was thick at the painful memory. “I was told that no
one thought she would make it. I was barely a toddler then,” he paused.
“Life is so fickle, you know; the tattoo – the story – it reminds me to never
take the time I have with the people I cherish for granted.” He looked sad,
and without thinking about it, I reached out and stroked his arm. His gaze
fell on my hands on him, and he reached and held it for a while. “You
should go back to sleep, babe,” he finally said quietly.
I stared at him without saying a word, unsure I would be able to go back
to sleep that night.
“Can I hold you?” he asked after a while. I nodded. He reached over
and switched off the light again, and he settled on the pillow next to mine,
gathering me in his arms as he patted his chest for me to lay my head. I laid
my head on his chest, and his hand draped lazily over my shoulder as he
drew soft, tiny circles on my arm. I could hear the steady beating of his
heart which was gentle against mine that was beating louder by the second.
I stared at the blue light from the digital clock in the darkness for over an
hour, and imagined him doing the same. I knew I was safe with him. I felt
safe. But I was too conscious of the way my body was reacting to him. As I
laid there on his chest, listening to his steady breathing, I wondered how
long I would be able to hold out for.
I scratched my cheeks again. The right side of my face was tickling. I
was hurrying to my exam, textbooks and study notes kept falling out of my
hand and getting carried by the wind. It felt like I could not get there fast
enough. I bumped into an open door, and everything I was holding toppled

to the floor, including my pencils and pens. I thought I zipped my pencil
case? Clearly not. When did I become such a klutz?
“The exam has been moved to H building,” I heard Afreen say.
“What?” I was confused. Why was the exam moved last minute? Why
did I not get an email about it? Most importantly, why is Afreen in my
class?
“Ahmad said if we’re late, he won’t allow us to take the exam,” she
said, hurrying away.
Wait. What? My face was still tickling. Ahmad was my professor? Since
when? Why is Afreen on campus? Why is my face tickling? Why won’t it
stop?
I opened my eyes. Somehow, we made it to morning with me fast asleep
on his chest. Bright morning light streamed in through the windows of the
high-rise penthouse suite. I was in bed, staring straight at Ahmad’s brown
eyes as they glinted with mischief. He removed his fingers from my face.
He had been tickling it
“You were making cute noises in your sleep,” he said as I sat up in bed
and pulled the shirt I’d slept in.
“I had a weird dream,” I scratched my hair, wiped the sides of my lips
and subconsciously looked down at the pillow to make sure I hadn’t been
drooling.
“I could tell,” he said, moving closer and leaning towards my face, that
mischievous grin still on his face.
“What are you doing?” I asked, but the words were drowned by laughter
as he tickled my sides, and I fell on my back again.
Ahmad got on top of me and pinned my hands to my side. “I’m giving
you a morning kiss.”

“What? No, no no, " I said, as I turned my head so that his lips fell to
my cheeks instead. He aimed for my lips again, and I shook my head. His
lips got my neck this time. “I haven’t brushed my teeth,” I said in between
my fit of giggles.
“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m just happy you stayed over.” I was still
pinned down beneath his bare chest. He felt so warm.
“I swear this is my biggest insecurity.”
“What is?” he stopped, and he raised his head to look at me.
“Smelly breath. You know how in the movies, people wake up, and they
just… kiss?” I watched him nod, a half-smile on his face, “I’m always like
eww – like, why don’t they brush their teeth first?”
He released my hands and rolled over to his back, his head brushing
mine on the pillow as we stared at the ceiling. My sides ached from the
involuntary fit of laughter caused by the tickles.
“So, you don’t wanna kiss me ‘cos you haven’t brushed your teeth?” he
didn’t wait for me to answer, “Okay then. But you owe me a kiss as soon as
you do.”
“Make me,” I said. I got off the bed, leaving him with raised eyebrows
as he watched me walk away like he was wondering if he should take me up
on the dare. I was in the bathroom for a few minutes after brushing my
teeth. I put my abaya back on and came back to the bedroom to say my
morning prayers. As I folded up his praying mat afterwards, I heard Ahmad
on the phone outside the room. I could tell it was with his team in Japan. I
picked up my phone to check my messages then I walked out of the
bedroom to find him brewing coffee in the kitchen.
“You took a shower already?” He asked me when he ended the call.

“No, I’ll do that when I get back to the residence,” I answered. I don’t
have my toiletries; I wouldn’t feel clean enough using someone else’s bath
products. It was a Fa’iza thing. He nodded, still shirtless and bare feet. But
at least he was now wearing trousers.
“Have you taken your morning dose?” I asked, tearing my eyes away
from him and grabbing a mug. He needs to find a shirt, I thought.
“I feel much better now, don’t think I need it,” he said.
“You must be joking,” I passed the grey mug to him and watched as the
caffeinated liquid trickled slowly into the cup. I moved to the fridge and
looked at the breakfast items in it – cheese, turkey sausages, eggs.
“I’m starving,” I groaned. My stomach had rumbled twice already.
“I’m gonna go get us breakfast sandwiches from the café downstairs,”
he started walking to the room to get dressed.
The café downstairs was an owner-managed café I’d ventured into a
few times – dainty and French styled.”Nah,” I shook my head. “I’ve seen
their menu. Almost everything has bacon in it.”
“I’ll tell them to leave the bacon out,” he said from the room, his voice
muffled by the distance.
“It’s alright, " I said as I opened the bottom cabinet and grabbed a
barely used frying pan. He came back just as I was breaking eggs into a
bowl, the turkey sausages turning golden brown in the frying pan.
“You… are… cooking,” he pronounced each word separately with a
surprised smile on his face.
“Great observation skills,” I remarked sarcastically. I poured the eggs
over a mix of diced tomatoes and onions. “You get an A*!”
“Haha, you’ve got jokes,” his voice was right by my ear. “How can I
help?”

“A plate would be nice,” I flipped the turkey sausages over. He moved
away from me and opened a cabinet, brought out two plates and set them on
the counter, and was back behind me again. I busied myself with placing the
omelettes on the plates, his hands around my waist as I moved.
“I’m still waiting on that morning kiss,” his voice was right by my ear
again.
I felt the flutter in my heart. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to hold him.
That was all I thought about all night. I switched off the burner, and I
slowly turned around and looked up at him. He had a faint smile on his
face, his hands still on my waist, and our thighs were pressed together with
my back against the oven. His eyes glance at my lips and back to my eyes.
What harm can one little kiss do? I thought to myself as I felt his hands
moving to my arms, his fingers stroking my skin lightly. He slowly lifted
my arms and put them around his neck. I wondered what his lips would feel
like against mine. Without realizing it, I bit my bottom lip, and I saw a look
in his eyes. I knew there was no going back. I wanted this as much as he
did; I was just better at hiding my feelings.
His other hand was lightly touching my jawline now, his thumb lightly
grazing my lower lip and in a heartbeat, my lips were on his. They felt so
soft against mine, so unreal that I felt unsteady on my feet, and I almost
forgot to breathe. His lips parted lightly, and I felt his hunger. He was trying
to rein it in, but I could still feel it as his lips moved over mine. I felt his
hands over my back and around my neck as he moved us closer, but it felt
like it would never be enough. The closeness was still not enough. His
touch was setting me on fire, and I did not mind getting consumed.
This kiss. This kiss was worth getting consumed by this fire for. But a